


Mistake

by yeaka



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Zack helps Prince Cloud out of an awkward jam.





	Mistake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

There’s nothing quite like a shower at the palace, where the jets are like heaven and the soap’s divine—if Zack could, he’d move right in and take up a room right next to this bathroom: the full-suite one on the third floor, made out of all porcelain and gold. But that might be taking advantage of his prince’s friendship a little _too_ much, and he holds himself back. He’s only the personal driver, after all—not one of the people _meant_ to live in like the maids (not that he wouldn’t enjoy living with Aerith in particular) or the butler (and Angeal might lift a brow but would certainly _let_ him). So instead he confines his stay to nights like these, where heading home would be silly, even for someone with keys to the seven cars in the garage. 

Normally, he’d probably just excuse himself, but given the night they did have last night, he figures he owes Cloud a check-in. He did, after all, help somewhat in organizing the party, and he remembers vividly how Cloud blanched upon seeing the pulsing crowd in his ballroom. Zack can’t help a fond chuckle at the memory—his prince is just _too cute_ sometimes, even if it might be blasphemous to think that. 

When he slips out of the grand bathroom, fully dressed again in yesterday’s attire, he makes his way down the hall—Cloud’s room is just around the corner. He just hopes he gets there before the maids do. He’s not sure he’s ever really seen Cloud drink before, at least not to the extent he had to last night to deal with the crazed birthday party Angeal’s friend (supposedly a professional party planner but seemingly just a terrible poet) threw for him, and for all Zack knows, Cloud’s room is either utterly overturned or covered in vomit. It stirs up a tiny tinge of guilt—maybe he should’ve checked on Cloud last night, rather ducking into a closet with said awful party planner.

But then, Cloud’s a full-grown prince. He can probably handle it. By the time Zack’s using the elaborate knocker in the center of Cloud’s mammoth bedroom door, he’s convinced himself it’s all fine. 

A few seconds later, the door creaks open, and Cloud’s handsome face, albeit with some dark circles under the eyes, appears in the crack. 

“Hey, buddy,” Zack ventures, because Cloud always winces when Zack gives him a title. “You doin’ okay?”

Cloud wrinkles his nose, like he very much _isn’t_ , and Zack hopes it’s just because of a hangover. Cloud’s in a fresh dressing gown, so clearly he’s at least retained enough dexterity to get himself out of yesterday’s fancy robes.

Instead, Cloud glances aside, then exhales heavily, and finally opens the door. 

Zack takes the hint and steps inside. He does a minor sweep of the enormous bedroom, noting, thankfully, that nothing’s out of the ordinary, save for a trail of black leather clothes leading up to the—

Zack does a double take, because _there’s a man in Cloud’s bed._

He jerks his head back around, and Cloud just makes a sort of flabbergasted noise before hurriedly shutting the door behind Zack. Zack wonders closer for a better look, but there can be no mistaking it—his sheltered, naïve little prince has a very naked, very handsome man draped across his bed. The face that’s turned against the pillow is long and chiseled, half-covered in silken silver hair that flows down a broad back and spans out across the sheets. Zack gets a good look at the well-defined body before him, toned right down to the dip of a slender tailbone, rising again into full, plush cheeks that are just _barely_ covered by the end of a disheveled duvet. The man’s bare legs are visible again beneath it, spread across the mattress. 

When Zack finally turns back to Cloud, he can’t help his grin. If it were anyone else, he’d slap their shoulder and proclaim: _Nice!_.

It’s a bit difficult to do that, though, when Cloud’s warily eyeing the stranger and half-whispering, “This is _awful!_ I don’t know what the hell I was thinking!”

“If you were as drunk as the rest of us,” Zack provides, “you probably weren’t.” Cloud tries to glare at him, but it quickly breaks off. Cloud never manages to be angry at him for more than a heartbeat. As brooding as he can be some days, he’s unwittingly sweet the rest, and it makes Zack wonder just how drunk Cloud had to get for this to happen. And then it makes him wonder even more why nobody stopped it. He probably should’ve. Or Angeal should’ve. Or maybe they all just realized how badly their precious prince deserved to finally unwind.

Even knowing it won’t help, Zack tries to offer, “You’re an adult. You’re allowed to have sex, you know.”

“I don’t know anything about him,” Cloud mutters hoarsely, shaking his head as he eyes last night’s prospect. “He could be a serial killer for all I know...”

Zack snorts. “I doubt the guards would’ve let a serial killer in. You know all the guests were probably screened to the nth degree, right?” That fact doesn’t seem to help at all, so Zack presses, “Do you know his name?”

Cloud hesitates a minute before providing, “Sephiroth, I think. Or... something like that.”

“Hm. That is a pretty serial killer-y name.”

Cloud gives him a horrified look, and Zack chuckles. “Kidding, kidding. C’mon, with looks like that, he probably never had to work for anything in his life, much less kill for it.”

“He could kill for fun,” Cloud answers, spluttering. “Or... or be an arsonist or something!”

“Or maybe he’s a regular person with regular quirks like a bondage fetish or mommy issues.”

Cloud just groans, and Zack gives him a consoling pat whilst trying not to chuckle. Only because it’s _Cloud_ , and Zack’s always felt a weird protective streak towards him, Zack offers, “Look, if you want, I can deal with it. You go have a shower and get dressed—I’ll wake up our beautiful stranger and see him out.”

Cheeks staining a faint pink, Cloud opens his mouth. He looks like he might be about to protest, maybe over the seeing the stranger out part, but then he just shuts his mouth again and mumbles, “Thanks.” 

Zack promises, “No prob,” and gives Cloud a loose half-hug. Cloud leans into, and a moment later, is looking back towards the bed. For once, Zack can’t read the expression in those clear blue eyes. Then Cloud lets out a shaky breath and nods, brushing past him and out into the hall.

Zack heads for the bed and the gorgeous sleeper, both to kick him out and see if he has a number to leave.


End file.
